


Terminal

by enmity



Category: Persona 2, Persona Series
Genre: Eternal Punishment, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-08 13:57:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14695617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enmity/pseuds/enmity
Summary: “You’re to blame. Yes, it’s all your fault. I hope one day you feel the way I do, so you’d understand. So you’d know how miserable you make me feel, I could die.”





	Terminal

**Author's Note:**

> listened 2 terminal by nuyuri like 50 times wrote this and only cried three (3) whole times in the process, wow! great progress.

The clearest memory Ulala had of the night she cursed her best friend to her death was not of committing the crime but the moment after it, when she’d put the phone down after a second of dazed bewilderment and slipped out, with surprising calm, through the unlocked door to stand over the bed where Maya lay. And though her insides burned with hatred, watching Maya’s sleeping form curled contentedly under the blanket she had draped over her brought back not bitter memories of the days in high school spent cycling listlessly from one club to another as she chased after the other girl’s shadow, or the jealousy when she’d heard, shortly before she met Makimura, that Maya had gotten a promotion in the job that she loved, and wasn’t that great, Ulala, let’s celebrate—

No, what resurfaced was not one of the hundreds of reminders of inferiority that lanced through her heart whenever she saw her, but rather a warm feeling of nostalgia she thought she ought to have forgotten. It was a feeling which brought to mind the countless sleepovers they shared in their teenage years and the countless times she had found herself standing in this very same spot as an adult, having come inside Maya’s room to wake her up when she slept through her alarm or to bring a glass of water or to make sure her friend had gotten to bed soundly without tripping on the clutter on her floor…

It didn’t take too much to superimpose the face of Maya’s younger self onto her sleeping visage, and if she thought hard, just so, Ulala wondered if she, too, could be taken back to a time when looking at her best friend’s face didn’t make her feel like sandpaper and bottled kerosene. And, that was the problem, wasn’t it? Ma-ya was so much happier and successful and more the woman Ulala could be. She could only stand under the shadow for so long. She thought that if only this feeling tearing her insides could disappear, if only she could look at her again without seeing everything she couldn’t be, then –

Then maybe she wouldn’t have become the kind of person who would condemn her best friend to death in the name of something as pitiful as jealousy.

She reached out. Maya’s cheek felt warm as she slid her thumb across it, softly, lending certain carefulness to the gesture so that she wouldn’t wake up. Maya didn’t stir. She blinked away the wetness around her eyes and felt, sudden and acute, something so far away from sorry and regret that she felt as though her heart could collapse under the force of it.

“I just cursed you, you know?” she said, after a moment, and brushed Maya’s hair out of her closed eyes. “Sorry. I guess that makes me a bad friend, doesn’t it? But, you know what, Ma-ya?” She smiled fondly and retracted her hand, the force of the next words coming out of her mouth propelled by the knot of tension tightening in her chest, taut like a string that should have snapped long ago. “You’re to blame. Yes, it’s all your fault. I hope one day you feel the way I do, so you’d understand. So you’d know how miserable you make me feel, I could die.”

Afterwards, Ulala went to the bathroom to wash her face. The water was hot, and she didn’t look too closely at the fogged-up mirror, because she didn’t want to know if her eyes were red, if the way her voice had picked up had not been because of anger, but of her trying to stifle a sob.

In the morning she stretched awake early, slogging through the headache, opened the curtains in the apartment to let the sun in, and made breakfast.

“You should eat better once in a while,” she insisted, plating Maya’s portion of the meal, “your stomach’s not gonna like it if you keep stuffing it with canned crab all the time, you know? Don’t blame me if you don’t listen to me and end up with indigestion or something.”

“Sorry,” said Maya, shrugging it away. She chewed thoughtfully. “This is really good.”

“Of course,” Ulala said, lifting her chin proudly, “by the way, I woke up early on my day off to make it for you. A girl doesn’t do that for just anyone! So eat up!”

Later, as she ran the dishes under the sink, Maya stuck her head into the cramped kitchen, already dressed for work. “Well, I’ll be going! Enjoy the rest of your day off!”

“Hey!” Ulala called out behind her, “Remember the party that guy invited me to – the one this evening? You’ll go with me, right? I’ll pick you up after you get off work so you don’t forget, okay?” she added.

“Sure, sure,” Maya laughed, with a careless wave over her shoulder, “I’ll go as a favor to a friend,” she humored, her smile as innocent and unrestrained and oblivious as always.

Ulala had forgotten sitting on her bed and dialing her own number and deciding she wanted Maya to die. But she remembered looking at Maya’s face as she slumbered, her eyebrows slightly furrowed in her sleep, reaching to wipe away that invisible rouge on her cheek and feeling angry and tired and realizing that it was never about jealousy, or about the promotion, or about who was the better woman – from the start, it was never about any of that at all.

It hurt to smile back, but as she watched Maya disappear outside the door, her fingertips stinging numb in the cold water, Ulala did, anyway.


End file.
